


Puzzle Piece

by flannelfeelings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cutesy, Dean-Centric, Domestic, Drabble, First Meetings, Funny, Gas-N-Sip, Human Castiel, Lighthearted, M/M, Sassy Castiel, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flannelfeelings/pseuds/flannelfeelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where your soulmate's first words are imprinted on your forearm at birth, sometimes life can be confusing. </p><p>Luckily for Dean, it's not very hard to distinguish who his soulmate is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puzzle Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Short little AU drabble I felt like pooping out. Unsure if it's been done before in this way. Hope you enjoy!

During his numerous hasty bathroom breaks at _Gas N’ Sip_ , Dean often finds himself sliding up the sleeve of his plaid shirt to look at the markings over his skin. He’s never in a hurry when he stops at this gas station, it’s usually after his shift at _Singer Auto_ , so he can take his time glaring at the incriminating sentence written across his forearm.

Most people are lucky. It’s a common “ _hey_ ” or “ _how are you?_ ” Some are fortunate enough to get a “ _Hello, my name is: X_.”

Dean has never exactly been the luckiest guy out there.

He runs his fingers delicately over the blackened words imprinted into his forearm, veins thickening underneath the text as he clenches his fists. With a sigh he pushes his sleeve up even further and glares at the words.

“ _Holy frozen fuckwad!_ ”

What the hell is Dean supposed to do with that? Holy frozen fuckwad? What does that even _mean_? Why is it that his “soulmate” is going to say something so unintelligible and confusing? How is he ever going to meet the moron who lets those words escape her lips?

It's probably not fair to complain, he could be like the ones who don't have anything written. Or who's words get crossed out before they can even meet the person. He figures he's got it pretty good, since so far, his soulmate is still alive and, well, exists. 

 

Dean sighs again and lets his sleeve roll back down to his wrist, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he pushes through the bathroom door into the gas station. He gasps when the door slams into someone’s forehead and he hears a masculine voice shout,

“Holy frozen fuckwad! My head!”

Dean freezes, letting the bathroom door slam shut behind him. He stares at the man curled up on the ground, cursing and groaning. He’s pretty thick around the shoulders and waist, with dark coffee-colored hair and pouty azure eyes. He’s currently on his hands and knees in his _Gas N’ Sip_ uniform, clutching his face and groaning loudly. 

His soulmate is a...a _guy_? Huh. Who'da thought? He supposes he's alright with this, after all, he doesn't mind the male body any more than the female. And at least he got pretty lucky, this guy is smoking like a stack of ribs. 

“You said the fuck thing!” Dean manages to spit out some half-coherent garbled gibberish.

The guy lifts his head and stares at Dean wide-eyed. Dean’s gaze travels to the man’s arm, where the words: _“you said the fuck thing!”_ are boldly printed. Well, that must’ve confused him.

“Y-you, I...”

Dean rolls his sleeve up to reveal the words, “Yeah. We just….”

“Well don’t just stand there, help me up!”

“Oh, right sorry.” Dean leans down and grabs the man’s hand, pulling him swiftly to his feet. He wobbles slightly, but Dean plants a firm hand on his arm to steady him, “You okay?”

He nods carefully, biting his lip, “I’ll be alright. But uh, in the future, you should watch where you’re opening doors.”

“You should watch where you’re walking.”

“You should be more careful!”

“ _You_ should be more careful!”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Dean, and you?”

“Castiel.”

“Well Cas,” Dean runs his fingers over the words on his arm, “you’ve puzzled me for twenty years.”

A grin crinkles across his face, “Well Dean, prepare to be puzzled for twenty more.”


End file.
